Religion
by MindGame
Summary: You always hear about Hogwarts, and the muggle-borns who go there, but you never hear about the ones who stay home, who never get to experience magic at all. This is what happens when magic and religion collide.
1. 1

WARNING: This contains references to religion, specifically Roman Catholic. I am not trying to be preachy, just trying to show what could happen if there was a muggle-born in a religious family. Nor am I trying "down" the religion. This is just a story. I am NOT trying to suggest ANYTHING. I have tried very hard not to be offensive, but still, if you think this will bother you, then hit the back button. No flames, please.

And sorry to all of you who were hoping for an update of _The Problem With Fireworks_. This just popped into my head... well no it didn't, it's actually been bugging me for quite some time. I was going to wait until I finished the other, but my muse wouldn't let me. Never fear, though... I hope to have the other done by Tuesday!

* * *

You always hear about Hogwarts, and the muggle-borns who go there, but you never really hear about how they got there, what convinced them that magic was real.

And you most certainly never hear about the muggle-borns who stay home, who never get to experience magic at all, who don't go to Hogwarts or any other magic school.

I am one of those people.

This is my story.

It all started...well happened... the summer before I was set to start secondary school. My parents were in a flurry trying to make sure that I had everything I needed; books, uniform, rosary, bible.

That's right, rosary and bible. I was going to a Catholic school. My parents were Roman Catholic, and so was I. I can't say I was really excited to be going to St. Francis Preparatory School, especially since none of my friends from primary school were going there. Most of _them_ were going to the public school. Even my best friend, Hermione Granger (I always thought that she was smart enough to go to a more prestigious school, but whatever the reason, she wasn't).

Then, one Sunday afternoon, just after we got home from church, we received a letter. This was odd enough itself, because obviously, there was not post on Sunday. Even more oddly, it was addressed to me. I opened it, and was extremely perplexed at what I read.

_Cassandra Butler,_

_It is my pleasure to tell you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Magic does, in fact, exist. A representative will be arriving at your house shortly for a quick demonstration, and will be able to answer any questions that you may have. The school train will leave from King's Cross Station at 11:00 September the first. I hope to see you there!_

_Cordially,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Needless to say, I was rather shocked. My father asked what it was, so I showed him. He looked very confused for a moment, and then a bit angry. He crumpled the letter and threw it in the waste bin. I heard him muttering something about bloody teenage pranks or something. He seemed to think it was the neighbor's son, John, playing tricks again. John's family wasn't very religious, and John seemed to find it amusing that we were. That seemed to be then end of it, and I went up to my room to change out of my church clothes.

I don't know that I ever would have given the letter much of a second thought if it hadn't been that about five minutes later something else incredibly out of the ordinary happened.

There was a loud bang from downstairs, followed by a small scream from my mother and a rather unusual "Bloody Hell!" from my father (this was unusual because my father rarely swore in _any_ way).

I dashed downstairs to see what the matter was. There was a man, dressed very oddly (it looked almost like he was wearing a dress), standing in our living room, and not only that, but he was on the coffee table!

"Oh dear," he said, jumping off the table, "I'm terribly sorry. It's a bit difficult to apparate accurately having never been here before." I hadn't the faintest idea what he meant, although, I had a suspicion that John had not, in fact, sent me that letter.

"Who are you, and what the bloody hell are you doing in my house?" my father demanded.

"My name is Roy Stevens, Department of Student Affairs, Ministry of Magic, and I am here in regards to the letter your daughter received informing you of her acceptance in to Hogwarts," he said, rather matter-of-factly. By this time I had made it into the living room, and was standing, unnoticed, next to my mother.

"You mean the letter was real?" I asked, awestruck. "You mean I can learn magic?" Suddenly, a lot of things began to make sense. Like the time I fell out of the tree, and my Aunt Sara swore she saw me bounce instead of break my leg. Or the time I really didn't want to eat my broccoli, but mum told me I had to if I wanted dessert, but when I went to it had all disappeared. Or the time I held my breath for 15 minutes because I fell in my cousin's pool and didn't know how to swim. I began to wonder whether that might have been somehow connected.

"Yes my dear," Roy said, "it was real. You are a witch, and as such, can learn magic and enter a whole new world that most muggles- that is, non magic folk- spend their entire lives dreaming about."

"Wow," I said. I was giddy; I mean, what ten year old wouldn't be excited if somebody came and told them all of their greatest fantasies could come true? "Daddy," I said excitedly, "can I go? Please? I promise I'll be a good girl."

I had missed the look in my father's eyes. He was furious.

"Absolutely not!" He fairly shouted this. He turned to Roy with all the motions of a man gone almost insane. My mother, who had still not said anything, paled. "How dare you come into my home, uninvited, and tell my daughter that she is evil," he seethed. Roy looked vaguely concerned. I was confused; how had he told me I was evil?

"Magic is not real, witches are not real. The only thing that comes close to what you describe is satanic!" I had never seen my father this enraged before. I had also, until this point, never realized just how seriously he took our religion.

Roy looked very sad. "I'm sorry you feel that way sir," he said. He reached into one of his deep pockets and drew out a long, thin piece of wood. He pointed it at each one of us in turn and muttered something. Obliv- something.

I don't remember much of what happened after that. I don't think that I was supposed to remember anything at all.

All I know was that the next day, when Hermione called and told me that she was going to a special school where she was going to learn magic, I told her that she was evil and that I wasn't her friend anymore. It wasn't that I believed she was evil, because I didn't. I was jealous. Jealous that she got to live in a world that I would be forced to spend the rest of my life dreaming about.

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So, what do you think? 


	2. 2

I spent a long time trying to forget that day. It was surprisingly easy, actually. I think whatever Roy did was supposed to make me forget that day forever.

At first, I didn't want to forget, and I prattled about it constantly. My parents never seemed to know what I was talking about, and signed it off as childish make believe or a dream. Eventually I gave up and moved on to other things. After all, I was starting my first year of secondary school, and even if the professors hadn't looked down on that sort of childish behavior, it wasn't deemed "cool" by the other children anyway.

And so I moved on, doing my coursework and never looking back. Once I stopped trying to remember, the memories slipped away quite easily, until I couldn't have remembered if I tried. For years, I plugged on, trying the best I could to please my professors and my parents. The work was difficult, and I often found myself struggling to keep up. Whatever I was doing, it never felt quite right. It was times like these that I wished Hermione was around to help me.

I tried to contact her once, but her parents sent me a letter back saying that she had not ended up going to the public school after all and consequently was not at home for the term. They did not tell me where she was. I thought maybe it was because of the fight we had before we left. What was odd was that I couldn't for the life of me figure out what the fight was about. It puzzled me, because I was sure I would remember a thing like that. Either way, though, that was the end of that.

After seven years, I finally graduated. Granted, not as highly ranked as I would have liked, but high enough to go to a decent university in London. The time came for me to go, and I packed up my things, excited to be in the city. I had never experienced the city before. Sure, I'd visited once or twice, but for the most part I spent my time, as my Uncle Tom would say, out in the boonies.

I plugged along in college, just as I had before. There was so much more work, but somehow it was different. I had an incredible sense of freedom, and often just went out for a walk simply because there was nobody there to tell me I couldn't.

It was on one of these walks, during my third year there, that something completely unexpected happened. I remember that it was late October, on a grey and cloudy day. Even though it was beginning to get rather chilly, I had still gone out to clear my head. I was walking though a particularly pleasant park when I caught sight of somebody very familiar.

After a moment, I realized who it was. It was Hermione. I approached with some caution; after all, I wasn't sure she would remember me. It had been almost ten years since I had seen her, and time has a way of changing people. I had to say, time had been good to her. Though she was still rather short and had the same bushy hair I remembered from our youth, her eyes possessed a kind of warmth that made me feel like she was still the type of person I would want to be friends with.

I was about to make my presence known, when I realized that she wasn't alone. There was a man with her. He was tall and a bit lanky, with a good deal of bright red hair. He seemed rather uncomfortable.

"Honestly Ron," I heard her say, "act like a muggle."

"I'm trying," he replied. _Muggle_. That word sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn't place it. Something tugged in my head, like there was something in there, waiting to break free.

"A muggle wouldn't pull out a wand and try to Stun a remote toy car Ron," she said, slightly exasperated, yet amused at the same time.

"But it was attack-" he started.

"No magic in public."

_Magic._ Somehow, I remembered everything. The letter, Roy Stevens from....from where? That's right...the Ministry of Magic.

I gasped in shock and stumbled forward. Hermione and the man called Ron turned in time to see me fall flat on my face. Hermione rushed forward to help me up.

"Are you alright?" she asked as she helped me to my feet. I could see the concern in her eyes. And as I looked into her eyes, I remembered something else.

"I- I'm fine," I said, "Thank you, though." I shuddered slightly; the memory of how I had so cruelly told her that she was evil so long ago came flooding back. She mistook my shudder as injury and asked me if I was sure I was alright. I told her I was, despite the fact that it was a lie.

She looked at me for a moment.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked me, ignoring the man standing beside her, who obviously felt a bit out of place.

"I think so," I replied. "Your name's Hermione, Hermione Granger, I believe," I said, a bit boldly. She looked taken aback for a moment.

"Yes," she replied, "though it's Weasley now. I'm married."

"Oh," I said, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "My name is Cassie Butler," I ventured, "We went to primary school together." I desperately hoped that she wouldn't remember all the hurtful things I said to her the last time we talked. It was in vain, though. Her features formed into a faint scowl.

"Oh, you," was all she said.

"I see you remember me," I said, unsure of what else to say.

"Yes, indeed I do."

"In that case, I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize."

"Apologize?" she asked, looking confused.

"I was jealous, and jealousy made me cruel. I know jealousy is a sin, and if I could take it back, I would, but all I can do now is pray to be forgiven," I said, aware how ridiculous that must have sounded to her.

"Jealous, why?"

"I was supposed to go to, err.." I faltered, unable to recall the name of the school. I cast about in my mind, and finally came up with the name. "Hogwarts," I finished.

"You were? But then why did..." She left the sentence hanging, but I knew what she was asking.

"When we were told about it- the school, magic, that I was a witch- my dad flew off the deep end. He said that such things were evil. I guess he didn't want me 'corrupted' or something. So I got stuck going to Saint Francis's instead. I was so hurt, that I didn't know how to handle it when you called and told me. I'm sorry." There was a pause after I finished speaking, as if Hermione was processing what I told her.

"That must have been really difficult," she finally said. "I couldn't imagine never knowing magic, I..." she suddenly looked very sad, as if remembering something.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, it's, just... not everything about it was happy, there was a war and..." she trailed off.

"I understand," I said, thinking that she must have lost someone.

"No, you couldn't," he voice was soft, not accusing- rather as if she were merely stating a fact, "and in some ways, that makes you very lucky." Ron put his arm around her in a comforting fashion.

"It's ok 'Mione," he said quietly.

"I should go," I said, sensing this was something that did not concern me, as curious as I was. "Bye," I said.

"Wait," she called out as I turned to leave. "Maybe I could call you... we could get to know each other again."

"I'd like that," I said. I gave her my number and we parted ways. I didn't really think she'd call, but at least I had been able to apologize to her. In the end, that's all that really mattered.

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Hurray for all my lovely reviewers! -hands them each a cookie (::)-

**Donroth** No need to fear, there will be no "sue"-age here! I just happen to love the name Cassie....

**Sabrith Alastar:** I have a friend who's the same way... she's kind of what inspired this story, actually. Glad you like the controversy, though!

**fence4life21** The thought was that I wanted Cassie to have a link back to the wizarding world, and being muggle-born, I figured the best way to do that was to have her be a friend to a muggle-born who went to Hogwarts. Hermione seemed a good choice, especially because I didn't want too many non-canon characters.

**Pookah:** Yay! I'm clever! Glad you think so!

**millie-mione **and**Kaleena Mason** I'm ecstatic that you liked it! Yay!

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Oh...and anything you recognize doesn't belong to me....


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